a Life Lived Well
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Leia is in her late 80s and Han is deceased. But fear not, there is no morbidity or angst. It's a Mother's Day oneshot.


A LIFE LIVED WELL

(Narrated by Leia, age 86)

Today is Mother's Day, a day that I've now celebrated for six decades. Soon, my children and their children and their children's children will descend upon the apartment that has been our family home for fifty years. Right now, though, I sip my kaf as I take in the silence.

This will be my first Mother's Day without my beloved Han. He died eight months ago at the age of ninety-five. He went gently. I held his hands in mine as he peacefully slipped through the veil that separates those still in this world, and those not. It was the two of us at home, in the early morning hours when transformation is always possible. I told him, I love you. His last words to me were, I know. I was crying, but also laughing. That phrase was a running joke for both of us for over six decades.

Chewie took it hard, of course, and I had told him that his life debt had been paid in full, but he refused. {He told me I have to take care of the princess}, he said simply. He'd been Han's best friends for seventy years, and informed me that the life debt does not end if the person leaves loved ones behind. He'll come by today, of course, as will my kids, grandkids and my great grandkids, and the apartment will flood with laughter and arguments and food and memories.

I carry my kaf and go to the hallway, staring at the hundreds of holos that cover the walls completely. There's the awards ceremony after the Battle of Yavin, where I'm dressed in one of my white ceremonial gowns, presenting Luke and Han with medals for valor and their contribution to taking out the first Death Star. Han is winking at me. Later that night, he asked me to dance, and we did. Carlist Rieekan, may he rest in peace, snapped one of us dancing. He held on to it for a while, and presented it to us on our wedding day.

Photos of us during the war are few and far between; in wartime, holosnaps are not only not priority, you want to make sure they don't fall into the wrong hands. There's one of us at the Winter Fete on Hoth during the war. I was sick and the photo is horrible, but I remember fondly how Han made soup, fruit juice and hot buttered Corellian rum for me. We didn't talk a lot, but I remember that day with fondness. I had a chance to see that he really was a kindhearted person under the swagger and bravado.

No holos from Bespin, but plenty on the way there. It was a dangerous and long trip, but there are holos of Han and me goofing off, dancing in the hold and laughing, one of me dressed in one of Han's shirts (and only his shirt, I might add) and laughing, playing sabacc and laughing. I'm fine with no holos from Bespin, It was not exactly my favorite destination, but despite the hazards of the journey there, we managed to learn about each other and have some fun doing it. (There are holos of us engaging in what might politely be termed amatory activity, but those will never be seen by other eyes. I'll look at them later and giggle, which is what we mostly did in those holos.)

Holos from the night of the final victory at Endor. Han is holding me in his arms, pulling me close, resting his chin atop my head. There are holos of others in attendance, including some cute, furry Ewoks. That was such a night - made perfect by Han's proposal to me. I'm flashing my Tandgor engagement ring that Han had given to me. It's on my finger to this day and glows brightly. My fingers are gnarled with arthritis, but my engagement and wedding rings remain where Han slipped them on over sixty years ago.

We have many wedding holos. Our faces suffused with bliss, looking forward to the life we'll have together. We may have had a thousand wedding guests, with about twenty whom we actually liked, but it didn't matter. As far as we were concerned, we were the only ones there. We look so young in them.

More wedding holos grace the walls - those of my brother and Mara and our kids. Dancing, drinking, laughing, drinking, making faces, drinking...you get the idea. Han and I look older in our kids' wedding photos, but he's still the most handsome man that ever lived, or will. Those green gold eyes sparkle at every age. They were filled with lively intelligence and mischief until he closed them for the last time.

Holos from the birth of Jaina and Jacen. I'm sitting up in my medcenter bed, our two babies held in each of my arms. Ones of Han holding Jaina for the first time, one of my all time favorites. He's cuddling Jacen in some of them as well, but I'll never remember the look on Han's face when he cradled Jaina for the first time. Then more from the births of Anakin and Jarik. My favorite is him cradling Jarik, who was a preemie, against his chest, both of them asleep.

And hundreds of the kids growing up. School holos, candids snapped on vacations and doing everyday things, parties, Praxium graduation, day school graduation, university and Naval Officer granduations, holidays, you name it, it's documented. But then there are the ones taken for no good reason other than that we were there.

Weddings. Our children chose well and despite the regular array of difficulties they faced, remain wedded. Han and I were graying in those photos, but we're still smiling.

And of course, the _Millenniun Falcon _ is there; exterior photos and many, many interior ones, taken on voyages, some dangerous, some just for pleasure. Jaina now owns her and refuses to part with her, for which I'm grateful. I visit the ship every now and then. I love to walk through it, think about how large a role that ship has played in her lives.

To walk this hallway is to take a journey through the life Han and I created and shared. It's been exhilarating, exhausting, joyous, painful, fun, irritating, aggravating, amazing, and never, ever, boring. I don't think my life has had a dull moment since meeting Han Solo.

"I miss you," I whisper.

I remember his expression, just before he was put into carbon freeze, how concerned he looked, worrying about me more than himself. Perhaps it's just the breeze, but a warm comfort floods me and I swear that I hear him say, "I know."

Our life has been one that's lived well. And because of that, Han and I are joined at the soul.


End file.
